


my heart is in my hand (eugh)

by angelsaves



Series: the masochism tango [1]
Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Masturbation, Podfic Welcome, coda to episode s02e06: Argestes, referenced dentistry, see notes for additional content warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: Roman's sure that, after Gerri sees his father hit him, she won't want anything to do with him anymore. It'll be too complicated. She'll close the door in his face.(That's not what happens.)





	my heart is in my hand (eugh)

Roman's sure that, after Gerri sees his father hit him, she won't want anything to do with him anymore. It'll be too complicated. She'll close the door in his face.

He goes to her chalet anyway, still a little woozy from the emergency dental visit, because he's a fucking glutton for punishment. Probably it's the flaw in him that Logan Roy has always seen, the one Gerri maybe thought was kind of sexy until she saw how deep it ran.

"Get in here already," Gerri says briskly. Another night, another set of silk lounging pajamas, this time in a wine-dark color. Roman always liked that phrase, reading the Iliad or whatever back in school: _the wine-dark sea_. It looks good on her. "Well?"

Roman pulls himself together and steps inside, letting Gerri close the door behind him. He tries to think of something witty to say, but his mind is a perfect blank. He just looks at her.

Gerri looks back, and there's no pity in her gaze, but there isn't any disgust, either; a little contempt, the kind he likes, and the sense that he's -- what? A diamond in the rough? A fucking truffle that needs the mud washed off it? "Take off your clothes," she says finally. "Then get on your knees."

It's a relief, like relaxing into a hot bath, being told what to do. _Gerri_ telling him what to do. Roman tugs the T-shirt off over his head, and, muffled by the fabric, says, "Oh, how the tables turn."

"Excuse me?"

He drops the shirt and starts to work on his fly. "Wasn't so long ago when you told Kendall to make me put my shirt back on."

Gerri smirks at him. "That was different," she says. "For one thing, the shades are drawn. Take off your pants." He does, stepping out of them when they hit the floor. "No underwear today," she notes.

Roman winks, and she rolls her eyes. God, she's so fucking sexy. He doesn't need to be told twice to kneel.

"Now," Gerri says, "you're going to masturbate, and this time you're allowed to look at me."

He gulps, meeting her eyes. He's fully hard by now, aching when he wraps his hand around the shaft, and Gerri's watching.

"Good." She nods, a tiny movement, but a decisive one. "In fact -- don't look away. Don't close your eyes."

"Can I blink, at least, Frau Führer?" Roman asks, his voice breaking before he reaches the insult.

"As long as you don't overdo it," Gerri says wryly. "Hurry it up; I need my beauty rest."

Roman bites down on a response that's uncharacteristically kind and focuses on his dick, jerking it roughly. He's leaking steadily, slicking things up. He couldn't take his eyes off Gerri if he tried.

"That's right," she says. "You're going to do this for me. Because I want you to."

"Yeah," Roman gasps out.

"Look at you, here on your knees." Gerri takes a step closer. "Do you have any idea what you look like?"

"A young David Bowie?" Roman guesses.

"I was thinking of a painting, but sure, we'll go with that, rock star." Another step brings Gerri almost close enough to touch, making Roman tilt his head up to keep their eye contact going.

"Thanks, mole woman." He's so fucking close, teetering on the edge, Gerri's eyes filling up his vision.

And then she does it, breaks the one rule between them: she touches him, cupping his jaw in her hand, thumb rasping over the stubble, and she doesn't look away.

Roman moans helplessly, leaning into the touch, and Gerri murmurs, "Good," almost too soft to hear. That's it, all he can do is angle his dick so he doesn't get jizz on her clothes, eyes finally closing.

Gerri doesn't let go. Roman doesn't really know what to do with that, so he just kneels there, come cooling all over him, watching her.

After a while, she lets out a breath. "Do you want to use my shower?"

"Will you join me?" Roman parries, getting awkwardly to his feet.

"I will not." Gerri stoops to pick up his clothes and passes them to him.

He touches her hand, under the pile of fabric, and says, hesitantly, "Hey."

"Don't say it," Gerri says firmly.

"Okay."

Roman showers fast, using a generous amount of the provided body wash. Gerri didn't bring her own on this trip, it looks like, so they're going to smell the same. He's kind of into it.

When he comes back out, shaking the water from his hair, Gerri is leaning on the counter, sipping white wine. She raises her eyebrows at him over the rim of the glass.

"All clean," he says uselessly.

"Hmm." Gerri drinks a little more wine. "Are you going to stay?"

Roman blinks, taken by surprise. "I, uh -- I'd better not."

"Suit yourself," she says. "I thought I might let you sleep at the foot of my bed."

"That's a thought." Roman is struck by how good that sounds, so he has to leave immediately. "I think I'd better be seen coming out of my own room in the morning, though." He wiggles his fingers over his shoulder as he reaches the door. "People will talk."

"Mm-hmm." Her face doesn't change. "Well, goodnight."

"'Night," Roman says.

The walk back to his chalet is a little chilly on his damp skin, but it feels good. _What a team,_ he thinks, running his tongue over his new tooth, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Roman has some internalized feelings of deserving abuse that I didn't know exactly how to tag for, so, here you go.
> 
> the title is from the masochism tango, by tom lehrer


End file.
